Thirty Two Drops of Rain
by NimNimAwesome
Summary: Kyle never wanted to see him doing things with 'her'. But he did and has decided he's had enough. Stan must win Kyle back or he'll lose everything he's ever loved. I'm not the best at summaries...


**So yeah this is something I whipped up because I thought to myself, **

**"what the H Rachie why is there no style fics on your account?!"**

** and I said 'meh.' **

**And so Istarted this, this is also something that showed due to procrastination to my other multi chap fic... I REGRET NOTHING! Enjoy my little cherry blossoms!**

**I DON'T OWN SOUTH PARK I SWEAR *hides behind a spoon***

* * *

Kyle stood motionless at the very edge of Starks Pond. His face was red and blotchy with streams of dried tears staining his cheeks. Electric green eyes that were the resemblance of a fiery temper and soft kindness were masked with a coldness that has planted a seed in his heart that has grown and left him for misery.

He fists clenched and he tried to squeeze on last drop of the salty substance but it refused and remained in the corner of his eyes. He wanted to scream out so badly, he wanted to scream until his throat was and all the pain disappeared, all the stress and heart break was getting to his head. He was fighting a war with himself, a war on between whether or not he should stomp right back over to Stan's house and murder the woman who seduced his lover, or to just stay there and cry like a blubbering fool.

Kyle sank to his knees that brushed up against the grass that was rubbing against the skin showing in his ripped jeans. He sat like that for quite a while; it was just him, the pond, and The Man in the Moon to comfort him with the wind sending soothing whispers and chills down his rigid spine. It had reminded him Stan. They way he would caress him with cold hands after school where they could be alone in the comfort and safety of either ones room.

But he should have known that the happy moments would never last. All the smiles, the laughing fits, and the nights together were all too good to be true. Maybe it was true, best friends could never successfully be lovers.

Kyle head fell forward like a limp ragdoll as he counted the things that she had the he didn't. He continued on and on with his counted fingers closing and opening symbolizing that he has made far past ten. He stopped soon enough and his big greens eyes lazily drifted downwards to look at the result he was calculating. Thirty-two. That is quite a lot. But girls are a lot different than boys so it's what to be expected.

The fiery haired male gave a humorless chuckle. He knew that the outcome for him and Stan would be weak at best. Especially since Wendy is always clinging to him and flaunting all the curves that Kyle could never use to seduce Stan. He was second best for the raven haired male, and it was how it should be.

He took his right hand and ran it through his red lock that would curl around his fingers in almost a comforting way, like they knew that Kyle could make it out of this depression. He let a smile grace his full chapped lips as he gave them at slight lick to wet them. But the Jewish teen knew better, Stan had cheated on him with Wendy and there no way of denying that, he could deny that tension and sadness that has infested his heart, but this was something that just scarred his fragile mind.

His breathing began to labor and he felt tears welling up in eyes. His conscience willed him to stay strong and to not cry for that cheating loser anymore, that needed to get and walk away from the edge of the pond and start anew, to will him to be strong.

Even the moping male knew that it was right for him to just get over it and move on a better man that will make him truly, happy but as he ran through a list of males in his mind the same name came up again and again. Stanely Marsh.

That name was there in bold letters that seemed to be tattooed in his eyelids, because once he closes his eyes they appear like an annoying streak on your glasses that you can never seem to clean. At least the tears had stopped their final threat to rack his fragile body with pitiful sadness.

He continue to think and sit, sometimes he would toss large objects into the contaminated water, and would simply lie down and not think at all, for he were to think he would begin to over analyze things about the rocky road that was now his and Stan's relationship.

The last thought that crossed his foggy mind was that the clouds looked ominous, and that is was about to rain. And he swears that he was about to get up but he couldn't, his mind told his limbs to play dead, and they obeyed. So Kyle slept by the pond that was filled with the most beautiful memories that clashed together in the perfect dream.

-Months Later-

It has been quite sometime since everything has happened and Kyle tried with his best efforts to avoid Stan. The boy had treated his former lover as if he carries the unfaithful bubonic plague.

Just because Kyle has been avoiding him doesn't mean that Stan has as well. If fact he has taken quite an opposite approach to Kyle breaking off like he had.

As days passed and weeks flew by, Kyle's voicemail and answering machine seemed to be filled to the brim and threatening to spill over. They were filled with Stan's voice laced with desperation, filled with fear of losing his best friend and former lover forever. Kyle had many nights where Stan would stand outside his one-story window and talk. He would talk about nothing, just things that were going wrong since Kyle left. He would say sweet nothings into the window with his large hands pressed pleadingly against the hard material.

It gave Kyle an overwhelming feeling of regret, but the emotion of betrayal trumps the former with a vicious tenacity that only it could salvage from the wreck of Kyle's emotions. And very every moment that Stan begs for Kyle to come back and share life together, he would feel a small and regrettable amount of pride knowing that he could turn such a proud and strong into emotional putty. But the Anti-Jerk slaps him in the face and tells him that what he's feeling is wrong. Pride should never be an emotion after a heart wrenching break up.

Today felt different though, it seemed as if he was freeing himself from the sticky hands of depression and climbing his way up to being happy again, without the feigned expressions and the abundance of masks. Even though Mother Nature had planned the forecast opposite to his current mood wit heavy downpours it never swayed his growing feeling joy.

The rain around him pinged and splattered around him creating harmony with its rich and enticing sound affects putting him at ease.

The sky above him was gray and angry. It shouted above him with loud booms of boisterous sounds of thunder. The lighting streaked its way through the mass a grey creating a split second diversion to keep all on eyes on itself, lightning was a selfish bastard.

The raindrops appeared to get louder for every smack of the pavement but the rain didn't feel any heavier. They came louder and louder until Kyle realized that maybe it wasn't rain at all but the sound of someone running, and seemed to running towards him.

Kyle's light eyes parted themselves from looking at his soaked tennis shoes so that they could see who had been running after him. At first it caused his green eyes some strain as he tried to recognize the person. But it didn't take much longer as it clicked in his head when he saw a glimpse of a very familiar hat.

His thought went from clear and blissful to clouded and full of mourning. He knew that he should start running away, away from the trouble that was about ensue but he couldn't he legs had been planted into the ground like a trap ready to swallow him up.

Stan had caught up and was heaving with heavy breaths of not so great cardio and disgusting weather. He panted for quite a while and he sucked in as much air as he could so he could hold off his lungs that were whining for air.

When he had caught his breath stunning blue eyes made pitiful contact with Kyle's. They were full of pleading words that he was bound to spit out at any moment, and that moment crept up like a crouching predator ready to pounce. It was the topic that Stan would bring up that would ensure his immediate downfall, because no matter how hard the Jew tried he could never say no to those cobalt eyes.

Kyle broke the silence with a disdainful, "what?" Stan had a flash of hurt run quickly through his eyes as it wiped away suddenly remembering the point of being here in front of Kyle.

"I-it wasn't it looked like I swear," Stan face-palmed at the wonderfully cliché sentence. "What I mean was it was supposed to be you there, not her." Kyle didn't seem to look the least bit swayed in fact his face resembled one of Craig Tuckers; plain and emotionless. But on the inside Kyle's mind was frantic with ways to come up with a witty 'I don't need you anymore comeback'. But he drew a blank which frightened him. He felt those hands of lost love grab him and drag him down to the level of admiration he used to be in.

"Then what the hell was it," Kyle began to shake with anger and fear, "why was she there with you, why was she on top of you making those lewd noises?" His eyes filled with the painful reminder that Kyle could cry. The tears betraying him with the sinful dash down his cheeks. He hoped that the rain would cover it up.

"Kyle it was all her, she was trying to take me, to steal me"

"Liar"

"Kyle please don't do this" Stan stepped closer, and closer. He was in front of Kyle; his eyes were looking into the mass of wet wavy red hair that seduced him into being smitten with him. He wanted to see the eyes that glistened with every emotion that flashed through the forest irises.

His placed his thumb and forefinger on his chin and forced him to look up at him. Sparks shot down his spine relentlessly, the feeling of love spread even farther throughout the expanse of his chest. Just the sight of Kyle's sinful green eyes and full feminine lips were enough to drive Stan absolutely mad with lust.

He bent down and pressed his lips the soft ones that belonged to Kyle. His eyes closed with the feeling that he had been missing for months, but Kyle began to try and wriggle his way out of Stan's grasp. But reflexively Stan had clutched tighter doing his best to convince Kyle that this was what needed to happen, that this was meant to be.

He released his captive with a small pop and a slim string of saliva still conjoining the two. Stan pressed his forehead against a slightly more willing Kyle as the ginger whispered, "w-why?"

"Because, no mattered what appeared to have happened, I will always be yours, and you will be mine, so please Kyle," Stan moved backwards only slightly so that his lips were brushing teasingly lightly on Kyle's, "I need you, be mine again, and nothing will never ever hurt you."

With final plea being accepted his lips pressed harder on to Kyle creating place of light airy happiness were it could never rain and never be destroyed. Where they could run free and be happy, where it was one big happy world.

Even though the weather begs to differ.


End file.
